


Good Company

by cowgirl65



Category: Wanted Dead or Alive
Genre: Graphic Description, Masturbation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-27
Updated: 2011-06-27
Packaged: 2017-10-20 19:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/216211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowgirl65/pseuds/cowgirl65
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josh makes a stop in a small town</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Company

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own any television show and make nothing from writing this other than cheap thrills

“He’s all yours, Sheriff.”

The bounty hunter handed over the outlaw’s gunbelt and the key to the cuffs.

“C’mon, you.” The sheriff prodded the unkempt man towards the cell block.

Josh Randall flipped through the stack of wanted posters as he waited for the sheriff to come back. As soon as he did, the bounty hunter held out his hand for the cuffs. “Now I’ll be on my way soon as I get the $800 I’m owed.”

The sheriff unlocked a drawer in his desk and took out a stack of money. “Bounty hunters,” he scoffed under his breath. Josh just waited silently as he counted out the bills and pushed them across the wooden surface, along with paper and a pen. “Just sign here to say I paid you.”

Josh folded the money, tucked it in his shirt pocket and signed where the lawman indicated. “Much obliged,” he said with a tip of his hat.

He slung his saddlebags over his shoulder and walked out into the scorching sunshine. Platte’s Landing wasn’t much of a town, but at least there was a decent sized saloon and hotel across the street. His horse was already put up at the livery; it was time to see to a few comforts for himself. The compact blond bounty hunter sauntered across the dusty street and pushed open the batwing doors. He paused to let his eyes adjust to the dimmer light inside before ambling up to the bar.

“Whiskey,” he said to the bartender. He tossed a coin onto the polished wood surface and picked up the glass set in front of him. Leaning against the bar, Josh surveyed the occupants of the room as he sipped his drink. There wasn’t much to choose from in the way of companionship; a couple grizzled miners who looked as if they hadn’t had close acquaintance with a bathtub since before the Gold Rush and a bored, hard-eyed whore sitting off to the side, looking as though she’d had a few too many even this early in the day. It looked as though the only good company to be had was going to be himself.

“Got a room?” he asked of the man behind the bar. The man reached under the counter and placed a key in front of Josh.

“A dollar for the night, five for the week.”

Josh dropped down another coin and picked up the key. “Much obliged.” He tossed back the whiskey before heading up the stairs. Matching the number on the key to the number on the door, Josh unlocked it and went inside. He closed and locked the door behind him before tossing the key and saddlebags on the bed. Unbuckling his gunbelt, he hung it and his mare’s leg shotgun on the back of a chair with his hat on top. Then he tugged his shirt out of his pants and unbuttoned it. He tossed the shirt on the chair and sat down on the edge of the bed to pull off his boots. His wiggled his toes, enjoying having them out of the tight leather and then took off his socks to tuck them in the boots and tuck the boots under the bed.

Josh then unfastened his pants. He had to stand to peel off the tight denim, but when he finally removed them, they joined the shirt on the chair. He glanced into the mirror above the washstand and carefully appraised what he saw. He wasn’t overly tall, but broad shoulders led down to a well-defined chest with hard nipples poking out from just the right amount of curly hair and strong biceps were attached to equally strong forearms. The hair on his chest made a small trail to his navel and that trail grew more pronounced as it travelled down the flat belly to his groin.

He eyed the slowly growing member that emerged from a darker nest of hair. He’d had many women comment on the size of his endowment and more than a few men at one time or another. It was a shame there was nobody in this one-horse town he was willing to have appreciate it. But he’d spent many a solitary night on the trail and he was no stranger to having to do things himself.

Still watching in the mirror, Josh started to squeeze his erection. As it started to grow to its full length, he carefully pulled back the foreskin and inhaled sharply as he ran his fingers around the sensitive rim of the crown. When his manhood was extended to its fullest, he went to the bed and pulled a bottle of oil from his saddlebags, good for the leather of his gear as well as other indulgences. He poured a generous amount into his hand and returned to the washstand. Leaning one hand against the wood, he looked back into the mirror and started to stroke his shaft, slowly at first. He took special care to increase the pressure on the downward stroke to simulate the sensation of burying himself in a woman’s slick core or a man’s tight ass. His breathing grew harsh, his hand gripped harder and moved faster as he felt himself nearing completion. Josh felt his balls draw up before his member pulsed and expelled his seed forcefully enough to splatter the mirror. He continued to squeeze and stroke the head, drawing out each shudder and drop of semen until he couldn’t take any more.

Josh stumbled back to collapse across the bed and enjoyed the afterglow of his climax.

There was certainly something to be said for one’s own company.


End file.
